Joel Died In The Last Of Us

So, we need to talk about the elephant in the room. Or, you know, the golf club in the room. Joel died in The Last of Us Part II, and I’m still not over it.

Let’s be real: we all saw it coming from a mile away. But that didn’t make it hurt any less, did it? It was like watching a slow-motion car crash made of heartbreak and wet concrete.

That Scene. You Know the One.

I’m talking about the scene. The one where Abby walks into that cabin, and your brain screams, “No, no, no, turn around, Joel!” But he doesn’t turn around.

He’s too busy being a hero. Too busy saving Abby of all people. And then comes the moment: the golf club, the rain, Ellie’s face. I honestly thought my PlayStation was going to short-circuit from all the tears I spilled on it.

Let’s break down why this hit so hard. Was it because Joel was a dad? A gruff, murder-dad who smuggled and lied and loved harder than anyone?

The Brutal Math of Revenge

The game wasn’t just killing Joel. It was making you feel the weight of every single person he’d wronged. Remember the hospital? Yeah, Abby remembered.

And here’s the kicker: Abby wasn’t a cardboard villain. She was a daughter, too. A daughter who watched her father die at the hands of a smuggler with a shotgun. Suddenly, you’re trapped in this messy cycle of “well, he kind of had it coming… but also NO!”

It’s like the game grabbed you by the collar and said, “Your hero? He’s a monster. Now deal with it.” Rude, Naughty Dog. Very rude.

The Aftermath: Ellie’s Revenge Tour

So Ellie goes on a revenge trip that feels less like a victory lap and more like a funeral march. She loses her fingers. She loses her girlfriend. She loses herself.

Was it worth it? Probably not. But that’s the point, right? Revenge is a mirage that looks like water until you collapse from thirst.

And then there’s that final shot: Ellie walking away from the farmhouse, empty-handed and guitarless. No Joel. No Dina. Just silence and the ghost of a missed note.

Why This Stings (And Why It’s Brilliant)

Joel’s death wasn’t a cheap shock. It was a thesis statement. The game is saying: actions have consequences, even for your beloved characters.

Did I throw my controller at the wall? Maybe. Did I spend an hour staring at the ceiling, questioning my own morality? Absolutely. That’s what great art does: it makes you uncomfortable.

And let’s be honest—would you have respected a game where Joel just rode off into the sunset? Of course not. That would be boring. This is soul-crushing, but never boring.

But Can We Talk About the Memes?

Okay, fine. The internet went wild. There were meme wars. Death threats. Endless debates about “Joel deserved it” vs. “Abby is a monster.” It was a mess, a glorious, chaotic mess.

Personally, I’m team “I need a hug and a therapist.” Because the game made me hate Abby, then play as her for ten hours, then forgive her a little, then hate myself for forgiving her.

It’s like emotional whiplash wrapped in a zombie game. Who even are we anymore?

The Legacy of That Golf Swing

Joel’s death changed the franchise. It turned a simple survival story into a meditation on grief, cycles of violence, and whether we can ever truly break free from our past.

So, pour one out for Joel Miller. He was a flawed, stubborn, loving man who made terrible choices for the right reasons. And honestly? I’d probably do the same.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go replay the first game and pretend he’s still humming through a hotel basement. Just for a little while longer.